


Save Me

by Anatui



Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02, Digimon Adventure tri.
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Middle School, Motomiya Daisuke | Davis Motomiya Has Low Self-Esteem, Motomiya Daisuke | Davis Motomiya Has PTSD, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Ichijouji Ken, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-07 17:09:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21461575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anatui/pseuds/Anatui
Summary: The apartment was eerily silent.Ken, ever the observant one, noticed immediately while he slipped off his shoes. "Where is everyone? It's so…""Empty," Daisuke supplied, speaking for the first time.Ken studied him with those intense eyes, tearing down his walls, tearing down his very foundation with nothing more than his gaze.ORDaisuke suffers from PTSD/depression after the events of Digimon tri., and Ken is here to help!
Relationships: Ichijouji Ken/Motomiya Daisuke | Davis Motomiya
Comments: 2
Kudos: 66
Collections: Daiken Discord Server





	Save Me

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this story just kind of spewed out of me, and I have FEELINGS GODDAMMIT. *grump grump grump* I didn't mean to have feelings.
> 
> As far as I'm concerned, there's never enough Daiken in this world, so please enjoy this angsty, yet fluffy one-shot of my perfect, beautiful babies.
> 
> **As a note on age:** Because this occurs not long after tri., Daisuke and Ken are 14/15.

Ken was standing on his doorstep. Perfect Ken with his silky black hair tucked behind one ear and his intense, blue-violet eyes searching his face with worry.

"Can I come in?"

Hell, even his voice was perfect—smooth and lilting like a song.

"Daisuke?"

But Daisuke just stood there, staring, unable to do anything but watch Ken's Adam's apple bob with an apprehensive swallow.

Ken cleared his throat. "Daisuke? Let me in."

It was still a request, but the words, barely a whisper, were firm, commanding.

Finally, Daisuke stepped aside, and Ken slipped inside the apartment with a perfect grace no one should've been allowed to possess. The door creaked shut behind his lithe form.

The apartment was eerily silent.

Ken, ever the observant one, noticed immediately while he slipped off his shoes. "Where is everyone? It's so…"

"Empty," Daisuke supplied, speaking for the first time.

Ken studied him with those intense eyes, tearing down his walls, tearing down his very foundation with nothing more than his gaze.

He coughed uncomfortably and moved away from the door. "My parents are having a date night. Jun's out. They'll probably all be out late." He paused in the kitchen, but Daisuke couldn't think of anything he wanted to eat or drink and he wasn't sure why he bothered to come in here. "Uh, you want a drink or something?"

When he glanced up, Ken paused next to the peninsula, blocking him in the kitchen. "They left you alone?"

Daisuke frowned. "I asked them to."

He arched a perfectly sleek eyebrow.

"Okay, I told them to go have fun. They don't need to worry about me right now."

The four of them weren't the only ones whose lives were put on hold while they were comatose in the Digital World, after all. Their families went through the ringer too, and as much as they doted on him after he got out of the hospital, his parents—hell, even Jun—deserved a nice relaxing night out. And he definitely enjoyed not getting pestered or fretted over constantly.

Ken knew that just as well. His mom hadn't stopped crying in the hospital. Probably still hadn't stopped crying, knowing Mrs. Ichijouji.

To be fair, Ken had been the last to wake up.

Apparently, getting your energy sucked from your body so a psychotic false Gennai could impersonate you as the Kaiser was exhausting.

His mother, tears streaming down her cheeks as she begged Ken not to leave again, had never abandoned his side. And once Daisuke had been allowed to walk short distances, neither had he.

"Hmm," Ken murmured. "Mama barely let me come here tonight. She's scared."

Daisuke released a long sigh.

Mrs. Ichijouji wasn't the only one scared.

The minute Ken had opened his eyes and seen two of his favorite people in his hospital room, he'd cried. Daisuke himself had almost broken down at the sight, relieved and happy, worried and overwhelmed, but mostly so incredibly glad to have him back, to know he'd be okay.

Mrs. Ichijouji had broken down.

Instead, Daisuke had slipped from the room to give them privacy. He hadn't returned.

Aside from a few short texts—including the one that had made him the happiest, Ken's announcement when he'd been released from the hospital, more than a week after Daisuke's own release—they hadn't spoken.

Hell, this was the first he'd seen Ken since the day he'd woken up.

Ken slipped off his shoes in favor of his typical pair of house slippers and unbuttoned his jacket. The fabric slid down his shoulders and arms at a torturously slow pace—Daisuke couldn't keep his eyes off the jacket and the pale skin it slowly revealed. His baby blue V-neck was ridiculously tight, clinging to his form underneath, and with one short glance from those intense eyes, he hung the tan jacket by the door.

Daisuke could only watch him.

Ken moved in soft steady steps, so light he couldn't hear, so smooth he could see the individual leg muscles through black, skin-tight jeans.

"I'm staying the night," he said as he twisted around.

Daisuke nearly strained his neck to keep watching the subtle movements under those tight jeans.

Then, he realized where his eyes were.

And that _Ken_ knew where his eyes were.

He definitely hadn't been ogling Ken's ass while he was turned. That definitely hadn't happened. He'd simply been admiring the toned muscles of a fellow athlete.

Body stiff, he looked away. Looked at anything else really.

Wait.

What had Ken said?

Daisuke's eyes darted back to his face, where two beautifully sculpted eyebrows arched skeptically. "Huh?"

"I'm staying the night," he said again, not at all intimated by the definitely-not-ass-ogling. "I already told my parents, and we both know yours won't mind."

No, of course. His parents adored Ken, had always adored Ken, probably wouldn't have minded adopting him in a place of Daisuke really—or at least that's what he used to think. Either way, they would've been happy to know he wasn't home alone anymore.

Daisuke swallowed. "You didn't bring a bag. What about a toothbrush? Comb?" He hesitated, then practically whispered, "A change of clothes?"

"I decided on the way over," Ken admitted with a secretive smile. "Called Mama before I got off at the Odaiba stop. She offered to drive me over some things, but I figured…you wouldn't mind sharing."

No, Daisuke didn't mind sharing anything with Ken.

He nodded slowly. Mostly because he didn't know what else to do.

"Wanna watch a movie?" Ken suggested in a soft voice. "In your room?"

He nodded again.

Ken turned down the hallway without another word, without waiting for him, and all Daisuke could do is stare, dumbfounded, in his wake.

Alone again, he moved to the bathroom.

Daisuke spent a long time staring at his pallid face in the mirror. His eyes looked empty, hollow. He couldn't smile like he wanted to. Like he was supposed to.

He'd always been the one keeping morale up, even if only with dumb jokes and good-natured teasing. No matter how insane or intense or dark things had gotten, he'd brought the team back to earth, grounded them and encouraged them so they could keep going.

Now, he wasn't certain _he_ could keep going.

_Knock_, _knock_.

"Daisuke? Everything okay?"

He turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on his face before venturing to answer. "Y-yeah, just a sec." Then, he twisted it off and studied his reflection again.

That water didn't make one lick of difference.

When he opened the bathroom door a moment later, Ken leaned against the opposite wall, having already changed. He was sad to see the skinny jeans gone until it registered Ken was wearing a pair of his own gym shorts, bright blue and white just like V-mon, barely clinging to his hips. Combined with his tight V-neck, the low-hanging shorts showed off a strip of smooth, alabaster midriff.

There was something positively sinful about the way Ken looked in just a pair of oversize gym shorts.

In _Daisuke's_ gym shorts.

"I can wear this, right?"

He nodded, eyes sliding along that delightful strip of skin the way he wanted to slide my fingers and tongue along there.

"Come on…"

Ken led the way to his bedroom, and he followed only a few steps behind, gaze focused on the sashaying hips and pert ass beneath _his_ gym shorts.

"What d'you wanna watch?" he asked, nudging the bedroom door shut.

They were officially alone.

Ken shrugged. "Anything you want." He sent him a small smile over his shoulder—Daisuke barely caught the friendly gesture, but it definitely wasn't because he'd been staring at his ass in his shorts as he leaned forward and grabbed his phone from the nightstand. "I'm going to call Mama to let her know I'm here and everything is all right."

He didn't leave the room to make the call, only dropped onto the rumpled bed and lay flat against the mattress, the shirt riding up to reveal his belly button, his ebony hair splaying like a halo around his head. Then, he pressed his phone to his ear. "Mama? Hey…"

Daisuke turned to the small TV and flipped through the options. He didn't particularly care what they watched; he probably wouldn't pay attention anyway. He grabbed the nearest DVD without even registering what it was and tore open the box to slide the disk in, though he made sure not to turn on the TV until Ken finished the call.

"Sorry about that." Ken offered an unnecessarily apologetic smile as he pushed up onto his elbows. "What did you choose?"

Daisuke dropped onto the bed beside him with a shrug, shoulders slumping forward. He really hadn't noticed.

Instead of answering, he grabbed the remote and powered on the TV. It was already on the disk menu, and he pressed play without a glance.

"Will you turn off the light?" Ken asked, his voice soft and way too distracting.

Here, Daisuke hesitated.

Not because it was an unreasonable request—it wasn't—but there was a part of him that thought lying on his bed in the dark with Ken wasn't the smartest idea, no matter how many times they'd shared a bed in the past three and a half years.

Of course, when had he ever listened to his instincts when Ken made such a reasonable request?

Never.

He rose from the bed and crossed the room to the light switch, tearing his sweaty shirt over his head and tossed it toward his closet. Ken may have gotten dressed for bed, but he was still wearing the day clothes he'd put on purely for his family's benefit. It wasn't like he'd gone anywhere today. Or considered going anywhere.

The room darkened dramatically, and then, he tugged at the button and zipper of his cargo shorts and shook them off by the door.

Then, wearing nothing but ratty socks and green boxers, he paused.

They were almost fifteen now—Ken's birthday had technically been while they were comatose, trapped in pods, barely fucking alive—and Daisuke typically slept in just his boxers these days. But he generally had the decency to wear a T-shirt and pajama bottoms during their sleepovers.

He really didn't want to bother with that now.

He didn't want to bother with anything.

At the same time, the tension didn't need amped up to twenty.

He bit his lip and crossed his field of vision to reach it and pull out a T-shirt at least.

"Your goggles…"

The words were quiet in the dark, but they made him freeze with the shirt only halfway down his torso.

Daisuke glanced back toward the desk, where the goggles had been lying since before he'd been released from the hospital. One of the lenses was cracked, and his mom had had to clean a little blood off. He hadn't had the heart to touch them in the weeks since he'd been back.

"Senpai's goggles," he whispered.

But the movie had barely made a sound so far and Ken's hearing was superb. "No," he said, shaking his head firmly. "Taichi-san gave them to you for a reason, Daisuke. They're yours now."

He scoffed.

He didn't know what that reason was anymore.

"Besides," Ken added, "Koushiro-san built him a new pair while we were…away."

Daisuke's teeth gritted at the ridiculous euphemism, and he tugged the shirt down the rest of the way, but any words he might've said were drowned out when the movie finally made more than a quiet hum.

He glanced at the TV. It was some sci-fi flick. He didn't look long enough to register more than that.

"Oh," Ken said thoughtfully, his voice higher, musical and whimsical again, lightening the mood. "Good choice." He patted the bed next to him and flashed a smile. "Come sit."

Daisuke hadn't grabbed pajama pants like he'd meant to, but he swallowed down any hesitation and slid onto the mattress next to him. Their arms brushed, Ken's knuckles grazing his clenched fist, and his breath hitched.

It was the most contact they'd had since the day he'd woken up.

Hell, aside from his mother's vigorous hugs, it was the most physical contact he'd experienced at all since that day.

It had been a few weeks now—Daisuke honestly didn't know how long—but he'd barely gone anywhere, barely seen anyone, hadn't attended school. His parents hadn't pushed the matter. Even Jun had been uncomfortably kind given the circumstances.

The other Chosen had stopped by. Hikari and Takeru, of course. A big group of everyone sometimes. Even Miyako had come by once she'd been feeling up to it.

Taichi had visited the most, Yamato hovering close by every time. He'd watched as they'd exchanged looks, communicating with no more than a silent glance, their bodies tilting and twisting toward each other no matter where they stood or what they did, their hands very much like this—grazing, just on the edge of consciousness, but never making full contact, toying with the idea of holding hands.

Yes, everyone had been so kind and understanding. It was unnerving, confusing. More than he deserved.

And it couldn't erase the never-ending apathy.

His eyes lingered on Ken's pale hand, toying with the idea of threading their fingers together, with the of, for once, being the one who needed the comfort and contact instead of the one providing it.

But there was a reason he'd kept his distance—from Ken and from everyone else.

When he'd woken up, it was slow. His brain had been mush. It had taken him a while to register where he was and who he was and what the hell had happened to lead him to a hospital bed this time. But once he'd remembered, that one minuscule thought was all it had taken to remind him of their failure.

No, _his_ failure.

They'd almost died.

He'd been the first to fall, and they'd almost died.

It was his fault.

He wasn't strong enough. How had he not known he wasn't strong enough? How could he have been so reckless, so goddamn arrogant?

They should've waited. They should've gotten Taichi and the others once they'd known the full extent of the infection, once they'd realized how dangerous the situation had been.

He should've asked for help.

He'd failed them.

Failed as a leader. As their captain. As the one who wore the fucking goggles.

Daisuke pulled away to pinch the bridge of his nose, struggling to breathe properly. Struggling to breathe period.

Then, Ken's cold, nimble fingers slid down the underside of his wrist, across his palm, and pushed their way between his, forcing him to hold his hand. Forcing Daisuke to touch him.

He'd failed Ken.

He didn't deserve to touch him.

But his hand clutched Ken's anyway, clinging to him, desperate for the contact.

Ken's body pressed against his side, chest against his arm, thigh against thigh, and Ken rested his forehead against his temple. His free hand landed on Daisuke's abdomen, inched up to lay his palm directly over his heart.

A silent sob racked his body, and he gasped for air.

Slim fingers grabbed a fistful of his shirt, and Ken nuzzled his nose against his cheekbone, the tip gathering some of the hot wet tears spilling from clenched eyes.

"We're in this together," Ken murmured. "We always will be, you know. You don't get to carry the burden all by yourself." He paused, flattening his hand over his heart again, then brought Daisuke's hand to his chest, pressing it close so he could feel Ken's own heart. "I won't let you."

"I thought I lost you," Daisuke choked out. "You just—you were out for so long. You wouldn't wake up."

"Feel my heartbeat," he said, forcing Daisuke to concentrate on the unsteady rhythm under his fingers, somehow still in sync with the spastic thump inside his own chest. "I'm right here. You won't lose me."

"Ken…"

His name was a plea. A prayer.

He had no idea what he was begging for.

"I'm here." Ken squeezed the hand still clasped in his. "And I'm not going anywhere. Not without you."

At last, Daisuke opened his eyes and turned to face him, ready to speak. Ready to say something. Anything that _meant_ something.

His words failed the moment he registered how close they were, the moment he caught the sight of Ken's eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Daisuke swallowed thickly, raising his free hand to cup his cheek, thumb stroking velvety skin. "Ken."

"Daisuke," he whispered, his breath grazing Daisuke's skin, fogging his senses, shortening his breath.

Ken's gaze fell to his mouth, and Daisuke wetted his chapped lips.

Their heartbeats were pounding, heavy, hard, completely synchronized.

Then, Ken closed the distance, and he was lost in the soft caress of his mouth. Daisuke's fingers threaded through his silky hair and held the nape of his neck, drawing him closer, and Ken opened for him with a soft sigh. His tongue traced the seam of his lips, and Daisuke accepted him wholly, groaning when they met in the middle as one.

Ken released his hand, only to clutch his shirt instead and cling to him. A little whimper escaped his mouth, sending jolts of electricity through Daisuke's body, but then he pulled back enough to speak.

"I don't want to lose you either," he murmured before drawing Daisuke into another kiss, albeit a short one. "You can't hide like this again."

"I know." He wrapped an arm around Ken's waist, gathering him up and tugging him onto his lap with ease.

Then, they were kissing again, soft and sensual and hot and wet, and Daisuke wasn't sure when the embrace had turned into Ken pinning him to the mattress, overwhelming him with the touch, overwhelming him with the connection, overwhelming him with Ken.

He dropped back from the kiss, head bumping the wall, and hissed at the pain, even as Ken leaned down to reach him. He too was desperate not to lose the connection.

Ken's slender fingers slid up under his shirt, palms tracing over stomach and abs and chest, memorizing every pore, his beautiful eyes shut, lips parted. And when he said, "Daisuke," again, it sounded more like a moan than anything else. "You can't keep things like this from me again. No secrets, understand?"

Blue-violet eyes fluttered open, staring deep into his soul, and Daisuke couldn't think.

Fuck, he didn't want to think.

He hated thinking, and he'd done far too much of it lately.

Besides, Ken looked too goddamn sexy straddling his lap, his normally sleek hair mussed from Daisuke's fingers. Why would he ever want to think of anything else?

But wait.

What was he saying again?

Ken's intense eyes were blown wide in the darkness of the room, and he was practically panting from the kisses, but he still managed to speak. "This wasn't your fault. You can't carry the blame, Daisuke. At least, you can't carry it alone, you hear me?"

Daisuke took his hand in his and kissed the knuckles. "I hear you."

He took a shaky breath and leaned down, close enough to wipe the sweat and tears from Daisuke's cheek. "You've saved me countless times," he whispered, then planted an affectionate kiss to his lips. "I wouldn't be who I am today without you. I'd probably be dead without you."

Daisuke's hands tightened around his, and he shook his head, ready to tell him, _Don't say that. Don't think like that. It'd never happen, dammit._

But Ken covered his mouth with another kiss and rested their foreheads together. "Please, let me save you this time."

His eyes stung again, and he surged forward to capture Ken's lips. Their mouths moved together, eager, demanding, desperate, as if they'd done this every day of their lives, as if they intrinsically knew.

"Okay," Daisuke said when they broke apart, gasping for air. "Yes, okay. Save me."

As long as he could hold him and kiss him and touch him and just be _with_ him, Ken could save him as much as he wanted.


End file.
